


Of Dreams and Memories

by esteoflorien



Series: A Drabble a Day [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteoflorien/pseuds/esteoflorien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Vastra wakes in the middle of the night with memories that have the character of nightmares. This is part of a multi-fandom drabble series - 12, in all - to count down the days until perilouslyclose comes to visit me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dreams and Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PerilouslyClose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerilouslyClose/gifts).



This is but one of the nights when Vastra, teetering on that fine line between sleep and wakefulness, remembers how it once was, in the days following her awakening. She remembers the darkness and the dampness and the endless noise from the builders. She remembers calling for her sisters and hearing nothing but the rattling of the cars and the banging of tools upon metal. She remembers how it was to feel so very caged. That was why she had gone after those poor workers after all; she was caged in, and they had woken her – and she was hungry, but of all of her reasons for killing them, that last is the one that shames her. She has since vowed never to surrender to her baser instincts, and has managed to stick to it, more or less.

When she remembers, she awakens shuddering with tension. Sometimes Jenny wakes with her; sometimes, not. Sometimes she must run her finger down Jenny’s arm and whisper in her ear and kiss her temple before Jenny wakes, yawning and rubbing sleep from her eyes. Tonight, Jenny wakes on her own, yawning and pushing herself upright, as if she sensed Vastra’s distress in her sleep.

(This fascinates Vastra, as do all the little things that make Jenny so human. How is it that the very traits that render humans so  _infuriating_  are so very endearing when she spots them in Jenny?)

“What’s the matter?” Jenny asks, without fail, even though they both know perfectly well what the answer will be.

“A nightmare,” Vastra tells her, even though they both know it wasn’t.

She wonders what her sisters would have made of Jenny, this little woman who take such very good care of her. She wonders what they would make of her and her detective work and her silken dresses and black veils. Sometimes, in her nightmares, when she does have them, she sees their reactions, and it is their disapproval and disappointment that jolts her awake.

They sit in silence, then; Jenny knows what haunts her memories and her dreams. Vastra has no need to repeat them.

She always forgets that Jenny truly requires sleep, and doesn’t remember until her wife leans against her shoulder and rests their heads together.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” Jenny asks, as she always does, although it isn’t ever really a question, her arm snaking around Vastra’s waist to hold her more tightly.

Vastra leans into her touch, then. It’s enough to have her here beside her. There’s no need for either of them to speak.

“Let’s lie down, my dear,” she says, and with Jenny’s warmth pressed against her, grounding her, she lets herself drift once more. 


End file.
